Od 


e 


n  Commemoration  of  the  Founding  of  the 
Massachusetts  Bay  Colony  in  the  Year  1623 


MADISON    C  A  WEIN 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


CAWEIN,  Madison  ulius.  author;  b. 
Louisville,  Ky.,  Marc  33,  1865;  s.  William 
and  Christiana  C.;  gr.  high  'school,  1880; 
since  then  has  confinenis  attention  to  the 
writing  of  verse.  Au,r:  Blooms  of  the 
Berry,  1887  M6;  The  riumph  of  Music, 
1888  M6;  Accolon  of  Gl,  1889  M6;  Lyrics 
and  Idyls,  1890  M6;  Da.  and  Dreams,  1891 
P2;  Moods  and  Memoes,  1892  P2;  Red 
Leaves  and  Roses,  1893'2;  Poems  of  Na- 
ture and  Love,  1893  P2 intimations  of  the 
Beautiful,  1894  P2;  The  Vite  Snake  (transl. 
from  the  German),  189iM6;  Undertones, 
1896  CS;  The  Garden  of)reams,  1896  M6; 
Shapes  and  Shadows,  189&7;  Idyllic  Mono- 
logues, 1898  M6;  Myth  al  Romance,  1899 
P2;  One  Day  and  Anifcer  (a  lyrical 
eclogue)  1901  Bll;  Weeds  y  the  Wall,  1901 
M6;  A  Voice  on  the  Win  1902  Mtt;  Ken- 
tucky Poems  (with  introdition  by  Edmund! 
Gosse),  1902  L26;  The  ale  of  Tempel 
(poems),  1905  D4.  Address  105  W.  Burnett  \ 
Av.,  Louisville,  Ky.  1  | 


Ode 


READ  AUGUST  15,  1907,  AT  THE  DEDI- 
CATION OF  THE  MONUMENT  ERECTED 
AT  GLOUCESTER,  MASSACHUSETTS,  IN 
COMMEMORATION  OF  THE  FOUNDING 
OF  THE  MASSACHUSETTS  BAY  COLONY 
IN  THE  YEAR  SIXTEEN  HUNDRED  AND 
TWENTY-THREES  BY  MADISON  CAWEIN 


JOHN   P.  MORTON  &  COMPANY,  INCORPORATED, 
LOUISVILLE,  KENTUCKY    **    MCMVIII 


C 


£ 

M 
>• 


8 

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s 

03 


/«  Commemoration  of  the  Founding  of  the 
Massachusetts  Bay  Colony  in  the  Year  1623. 


I. 


They  who  maintained  their  rights, 

Through  storm  and  stress, 
And  walked  in  all  the  ways 

That  God  made  known, 
Led  by  no  wandering  lights, 

And  by  no  guess, 
Through  dark  and  desolate  days 

Of  trial  and  moan : 
Here  let  their  monument 

Rise,  like  a  word 
In  rock  commemorative 


448048 


n    Ode 


Of  our  Land's  youth  ; 
Of  ways  the  Puritan  went, 

With  soul  love-spurred 
To  suffer,  die,  and  live 

For  faith  and  truth. 
Here  they  the  corner-stone 

Of  Freedom  laid ; 
Here  in  their  hearts'  distress 

They  lit  the  lights 
Of  Liberty  alone ; 

Here,  with  God's  aid, 
Conquered  the  wilderness, 

Secured  their  rights. 
Not  men,  but  giants,  they, 

Who  wrought  with  toil 
And  sweat  of  brawn  and  brain 

Their  freehold  here ; 
Who,  with  their  blood,  each  day 

Hallowed  the  soil, 
And  left  it  without  stain 

And  without  fear. 
2 


n    Ode 


II. 


Yea ;  here,  from  men  like  these, 
Our  country  had  its  stanch  beginning ; 
Hence  sprang  she  with  the  ocean  breeze 
And  pine  scent  in  her  hair ; 
Deep  in  her  eyes  the  winning, 
The  far-off  winning  of  the  unmeasured  West ; 
And  in  her  heart  the  care, 
The  young  unrest, 
Of  all  that  she  must  dare, 
Ere  as  a  mighty  Nation  she  should  stand 
Towering  from  sea  to  sea, 
From  land  to  mountained  land, 
One  with  the  imperishable  beauty  of  the  stars 
In  absolute  destiny ; 

Part  of  that  cosmic  law,  no  shadow  mars, 
To  which  all  freedom  runs, 
That  wheels  the  circles  of  the  worlds  and  suns 
Along  their  courses  through  the  vasty  night, 
Irrevocable  and  eternal  as  is  Light. 
3 


n    Ode 


III. 

What  people  has  to-day 
Such  faith  as  launched  and  sped, 
With  psalm  and  prayer,  the  Mayflower  on  its  way  ? — 
Such  faith  as  led 

The  Dorchester  fishers  to  this  sea-washed  point, 
This  granite  headland  of  Cape  Ann  ? 
Where  first  they  made  their  bed, 
Salt-blown  and  wet  with  brine, 
In  cold  and  hunger,  where  the  storm-wrenched  pine 
Clung  to  the  rock  with  desperate  footing.     They, 
With  hearts  courageous  whom  hope  did  anoint, 
Despite  their  tar  and  tan, 
Worn  of  the  wind  and  spray, 
Seem  more  to  me  than  man, 

With  their  unconquerable  spirits. — Mountains  may 
Succumb  to  men  like  these,  to  wills  like  theirs, — 
The  Puritan's  tenacity  to  do ; 
The  stubbornness  of  genius ; — holding  to 
Their  purpose  to  the  end, 
4 


n    Ode 


No  New- World  hardship  could  deflect  or  bend ; — 

That  never  doubted  in  their  worst  despairs, 

But  steadily  on  their  way 

Held  to  the  last,  trusting  in  God,  who  filled 

Their  souls  with  fire  of  faith  that  helped  them  build 

A  country,  greater  than  had  ever  thrilled 

Man's  wildest  dreams,  or  entered  in 

His  highest  hopes.   'Twas  this  that  helped  them  win 

In  spite  of  danger  and  distress, 

Through  darkness  and  the  din 

Of  winds  and  waves,  unto  a  wilderness, 

Savage,  unbounded,  pathless  as  the  sea, 

That  said,  "  Behold  me !     I  am  free ! " 

Giving  itself  to  them  for  greater  things 

Than  filled  their  souls  with  dim  imaginings. 


n    Ode 


IV. 

Let  History  record  their  stalwart  names, 
And  catalogue  their  fortitude,  whence  grew, 
Swiftly  as  running  flames, 
Cities  and  civilization : 
How  from  a  meeting-house  and  school, 
A  few  log-huddled  cabins,  Freedom  drew 
Her  rude  beginnings.     Every  pioneer  station, 
Each  settlement,  though  primitive  of  tool, 
Had  in  it  then  the  making  of  a  Nation  ; 
Had  in  it  then  the  roofing  of  the  plains 
With  traffic ;  and  the  piercing  through  and  through 
Of  forests  with  the  iron  veins 
Of  industry. 

Would  I  could  make  you  see 
How  these,  laboriously, 
These  founders  of  New  England,  every  hour 
Faced  danger,  death,  and  misery, 
Conquering  the  wilderness ; 
With  supernatural  power 
6 


n    Ode 


Changing  its  features  ;  all  its  savage  glower 

Of  wild  barbarity,  fierce  hate,  duress, 

To  something  human,  something  that  could  bless 

Mankind  with  peace  and  lift  its  heart's  elation ; 

Something  at  last  that  stood 

For  universal  brotherhood, 

Astonishing  the  world,  a  mighty  Nation, 

Hewn  from  the  solitude. — 

Iron  of  purpose  as  of  faith  and  daring, 

And  of  indomitable  will, 

With  axe  and  hymn-book  still  I  see  them  faring, 

The  Saxon  Spirit  of  Conquest  at  their  side 

With  sword  and  flintlock ;  still  I  see  them  stride, 

As  to  some  Roundhead  rhyme, 

Adown  the  aisles  of  Time. 


n    Ode 


V. 


Can  praise  be  simply  said  of  such  as  these  ? 

Such  men  as  Standish,  Winthrop,  Endicott  ? 

Such  souls  as  Roger  Conant  and  John  White  ? 

Rugged  and  great  as  trees, 

The  oaks  of  that  New  World  with  which  their  lot 

Was  cast  forever,  proudly  to  remain. 

That  world  in  which  each  name  still  stands,  a  light 

To  beacon  the  Ship  of  State  through  stormy  seas. 

Can  praise  be  simply  said 

Of  him,  the  younger  Vane, 

Puritan  and  patriot, 

Whose  dedicated  head 

Was  laid  upon  the  block 

In  thy  name,  Liberty  ! 

Can  praise  be  simply  said  of  such  as  he ! 

Needs  must  the  soul  unlock 

All  gates  of  eloquence  to  sing  of  these. 

Such  periods, 

Such  epic  melodies, 

8 


n    Ode 


As  holds  the  utterance  of  the  earlier  gods. 
The  lords  of  song,  one  needs 
To  sing  the  praise  of  these  ! 
No  feeble  music,  tinklings  frail  of  glass ; 
No  penny  trumpetings ;  twitterings  of  brass, 
The  moment's  effort,  shale' n  from  pigmy  bells, 
Ephemeral  drops  from  small  Pierian  wells, 
With  which  the  Age  relieves  a  barren  hour. 
But  such  large  music,  such  melodious  power, 
As  have  our  cataracts, 
Pouring  the  iron  facts, 
The  giant  acts 

Of  these :  such  song  as  have  our  rock-ridged  deep 
And  mountain  steeps, 

When  winds,  like  clanging  eagles,  sweep  the  storm 
On  tossing  wood  and  farm : 
Such  eloquence  as  in  the  torrent  leaps, — 
Where  the  hoarse  canyon  sleeps, 
Holding  the  heart  with  its  terrific  charm, 
Carrying  its  roaring  message  to  the  town, — 
To  voice  their  high  achievement  and  renown. 
9 


n    Ode 


VI. 

Long,  long  ago,  beneath  heaven's  stormy  slope, 
In  deeds  of  faith  and  hope, 
Our  fathers  laid  Freedom's  foundations  here, 
And  raised,  invisible,  vast, — 
Embodying  naught  of  doubt  or  fear, 
A  monument  whose  greatness  shall  outlast 
The  future,  as  the  past, 
Of  all  the  Old  World's  dynasties  and  kings. — 
A  symbol  of  all  things 

That  we  would  speak,  but  cannot  say  in  words, 
Of  those  who  first  began  our  Nation  here, 
Behold,  we  now  would  rear ! 
A  different  monument !  a  thought,  that  girds 
Itself  with  granite ;  dream  made  visible 
In  rock  and  bronze  to  tell 
To  all  the  Future  what  here  once  befell ; 
Here  where,  unknown  to  them, 
A  tree  took  root ;  a  tree  of  wondrous  stem ; 
The  tree  of  high  ideals,  which  has  grown, 
10 


Ode 


And  has  not  withered  since  its  seed  was  sown, 

Was  planted  here  by  them  in  this  new  soil, 

Who  watered  it  with  tears  and  blood  and  toil : 

An  heritage  we  mean  to  hold, 

Keeping  it  stanch  and  beautiful  as  of  old. — 

For  never  a  State, 

Or  People,  yet  was  great 

Without  its  great  ideals ; — branch  and  root 

Of  the  deep  tree  of  life  where  bud  and  blow 

The  dreams,  the  thoughts,  that  grow 

To  deeds,  the  glowing  fruit. 

VII. 

The  morn,  that  breaks  its  heart  of  gold 
Above  the  purple  hills  ; 
The  eve,  that  spills 

Its  nautilus  splendor  where  the  sea  is  rolled ; 
The  night,  that  leads  the  vast  procession  in 
Of  stars  and  dreams, — 
The  beauty  that  shall  never  die  or  pass : — 
It 


n    Ode 


The  winds,  that  spin 
Of  rain  the  misty  mantles  of  the  grass, 
And  thunder-raiment  of  the  mountain-streams 
The  sunbeams,  needling  with  gold  the  dusk 
Green  cowls  of  ancient  woods  ; 
The  shadows,  thridding,  veiled  with  musk, 
The  moon-pathed  solitudes, 
Call  to  my  Fancy,  saying,  "  Follow !  follow  !* 
Till,  following,  I  see,— 
Fair  as  a  cascade  in  a  rainbowed  hollow, — 
A  dream,  a  shape,  take  form, 
Clad  on  with  every  charm, — 
The  vision  of  that  Ideality, 
Which  lured  the  pioneer  in  wood  and  hill, 
And  beckoned  him  from  earth  and  sky ; 
The  dream  that  cannot  die, 
Their  children's  children  did  fulfill, 
In  stone  and  iron  and  wood, 
Out  of  the  solitude, 
And  by  a  forthright  act 
Create  a  mighty  fact — 
12 


n    Ode 


A  Nation,  now  that  stands 

Clad  on  witn  hope  and  beauty,  strength  and  song, 
Eternal,  young,  and  strong, 
Planting  her  heel  on  Wrong, 
Her  starry  banner  in  triumphant  hands.  .  .  . 
Within  her  face  the  rose 
Of  Alleghany  dawns; 
Limbed  with  Alaskan  snows, 
Floridian  starlight  in  her  eyes, — 
Eyes  stern  as  steel  yet  tender  as  a  fawn's, — 
And  in  her  hair 

The  rapture  of  her  rivers  ;  and  the  dare, 
As  perishless  as  truth, 
That  o'er  the  crags  of  her  Sierras  flies, 
Urging  the  eagle  ardor  through  her  veins, 
Behold  her  where, 
Around  her  radiant  youth, 
The  spirits  of  the  cataracts  and  plains, 
The  genii  of  the  floods  and  forests,  meet, 
In  rainbow  mists  circling  her  brow  and  feet : 
The  forces  vast  that  sit 
13 


n    Ode 


In  session  round  her ;  powers  paraclete, 

That  guard  her  presence ;  awful  forms  and  fair. 

Making  secure  her  place ; 

Guiding  her  surely  as  the  worlds  through  space 

Do  laws  sidereal ;  edicts,  thunder-lit, 

Of  skyed  eternity,  in  splendor  borne 

On  planetary  wings  of  night  and  mom. 

VIII. 

Behold  her !  this  is  she ! 

Beautiful  as  morning  on  the  summer  sea, 

Yet  terrible  as  is  the  elemental  gold 

That  cleaves  the  tempest  and  in  angles  clings 

About  its  cloudy  temples. — Manifold 

The  dreams  of  daring  in  her  fearless  gaze, 

Fixed  on  the  future's  days ; 

And  round  her  brow,  a  strand  of  astral  beads, 

Her  soul's  resplendent  deeds ; 

And  at  her  front  one  star, 

Refulgent  hope, 

14 


n    Ode 


Like  that  on  morning's  slope, 
Beaconing  the  world  afar. — 
From  her  high  place  she  sees 
Her  long  procession  of  accomplished  acts, 
Cloud-wing'd  refulgences 

Of  thoughts  in  steel  and  stone,  of  marble  dreams, 
Lift  up  tremendous  battlements, 
Sun-blinding,  built  of  facts ; 
While  in  her  soul  she  seems, 
Listening,  to  hear,  as  from  innumerable  tents, 
/Eonian  thunder,  wonder,  and  applause 
Of  all  the  heroic  ages  that  are  gone ; 
Feeling  secure 

That,  as  her  Past,  her  Future  shall  endure, 
As  did  her  Cause 
When  redly  broke  the  dawn 
Of  fierce  rebellion,  and,  beneath  its  star, 
The  firmaments  of  war 
Poured  down  infernal  rain, 

And  North  and  South  lay  bleeding  'mid  their  slain. 
And  now,  no  less,  shall  her  Cause  still  prevail, 
15 


n    Ode 


More  so  in  peace  than  war, 

Through  the  thrilled  wire  and  electric  rail, 

Carrying  her  message  far ; 

Shaping  her  dream 

Within  the  brain  of  steam, 

That,  with  a  myriad  hands, 

Labors  unceasingly,  and  knits  her  lands 

In  firmer  union  ;  joining  plain  and  stream 

With  steel ;  and  binding  shore  to  shore 

With  bands  of  iron ; — nerves  and  arteries, 

Along  whose  adamant  forever  pour 

Her  concrete  thoughts,  her  tireless  energies. 


16 


On  Old  Cape  Ann 


On  Old  Cape  Ann 


i. 


ANNISQUAM 

Old  days,  old  ways,  old  homes  beside  the  sea ; 

Old  gardens  with  old-fashioned  flowers  aflame, 

Poppy,  petunia,  and  many  a  name 

Of  many  a  flower  of  fragrant  pedigree. 

Old  hills  that  glow  with  blue-  and  barberry, 

And  rocks  and  pines  that  stand  on  guard,  the  same, 

Immutable,  as  when  the  Pilgrim  came, 

And  here  laid  firm  foundations  of  the  Free. 

The  sunlight  makes  the  dim  dunes  hills  of  snow, 

And  every  vessel's  sail  a  twinkling  wing 

Glancing  the  violet  ocean  far  away  : 

The  world  is  full  of  color  and  of  glow  ; 

A  mighty  canvas  whereon  God  doth  fling 

The  flawless  picture  of  a  perfect  day. 


On    Old    Cape   Ann 


II. 


"THE    HIGHLANDS,"  ANNISQUAM 

Here,  from  the  heights,  among  the  rocks  and  pines, 
The  sea  and  shore  seem  some  tremendous  page 
Of  some  vast  book,  great  with  our  heritage, 
Breathing  the  splendor  of  majestic  lines. 
Yonder  the  dunes  speak  silver  ;  yonder  shines 
The  ocean's  sapphire  word  ;  there,  gray  with  age, 
The  granite  writes  its  lesson,  strong  and  sage ; 
And  there  the  surf  its  rhythmic  passage  signs. 
The  winds,  that  sweep  the  page,  that  interlude 
Its  majesty  with  music ;  and  the  tides, 
That  roll  their  thunder  in,  that  period 
Its  mighty  rhetoric,  deep  and  dream-imbued, 
Are  what  it  seems  to  say,  of  what  abides, 
Of  what 's  eternal,  and  of  what  is  God. 


20 


On    Old    Cape   Ann 


III. 

STORM    AT   ANNISQUAM 

The  sun  sinks  scarlet  as  a  barberry. 
Far  off  at  sea  one  vessel  lifts  a  sail, 
Hurrying  to  harbor  from  the  coming  gale, 
That  banks  the  west  above  a  choppy  sea. 
The  sun  is  gone  ;  the  tide  is  flowing  free ; 
The  bay  is  opaled  with  wild  light ;  and  pale 
The  lighthouse  spears  its  flame  now  ;  through  a  veil 
That  falls  about  the  sea  mysteriously. 
Out  there  she  sits  and  mutters  of  her  dead, 
Old  Ocean  ;  of  the  stalwart  and  the  strong, 
Skipper  and  fisher  whom  her  arms  dragged  down : 
Before  her  now  she  sees  their  ghosts ;  o'erhead, 
As  gray  as  rain,  their  wild  wrecks  sweep  along, 
And  all  night  long  lay  siege  to  this  old  town. 


21 


On    Old    Cape   Ann 


IV. 

FROM    COVE    TO    COVE 

The  road  leads  up  a  hill  through  many  a  brake, 

Blueberry  and  barberry,  bay  and  sassafras, 

By  an  abandoned  quarry,  where,  like  glass, 

A  round  pool  lies ;  an  isolated  lake, 

A  minor  for  what  presences,  that  make 

Their  wildwood  toilets  here  !     The  road  is  grass 

Gray-scarred  with  stone :  great  bowlders,  as  we  pass, 

Slope  burly  shoulders  towards  us.     Cedars  shake 

Wild  balsam  from  their  tresses ;  there  and  here 

Clasping  a  glimpse  of  ocean  and  of  shore 

In  arms  of  swaying  green.     Below,  at  last, 

Beside  the  sea,  with  derrick  and  with  pier, 

By  heaps  of  granite,  noise  of  drill  and  bore, 

A  Cape  Ann  town,  towering  with  many  a  mast. 


22 


On    Old   Cape  Ann 


V. 


PASTURES    BY    THE    SEA 

Here  where  the  coves  indent  the  shore  and  fall 
And  fill  with  ebb  and  flowing  of  the  tides  ; 
Whereon  some  barge  rocks  or  some  dory  rides, 
By  which  old  orchards  bloom,  or,  from  the  wall, 
Pelt  every  lane  with  fruit ;  where  gardens,  tall 
With  roses,  riot;  swift  my  gladness  glides 
To  that  old  pasture  where  the  mushroom  hides, 
The  chicory  blooms  and  Peace  sits  mid  them  all. 
Fenced  in  with  rails  and  rocks,  its  emerald  slopes, — 
Ribbed  with  huge  granite, — where  the  placid  cows 
Tinkle  a  browsing  bell,  roll  to  a  height 
Wherefrom  the  sea,  bright  as  adventuring  hopes, 
Swept  of  white  sails  and  plowed  of  foaming  prows, 
Leaps  like  a  Nereid  on  the  ravished  sight. 


23 


448048 


On    Old    Cape   Ann 


VI. 

THE    DUNES 

Far  as  the  eye  can  see,  in  domes  and  spires, 

Buttress  and  curve,  ruins  of  shifting  sand, — 

In  whose  wild  making  wind  and  sea  took  hand, — 

The  white  dunes  stretch.  The  wind,  that  never  tires, 

Striving  for  strange  effects  that  he  admires, 

Changes  their  form  from  time  to  time ;  the  land 

Forever  passive  to  his  mad  demand, 

And  to  the  sea's,  who  with  the  wind  conspires.* 

Here,  as  on  towers  of  desolate  cities,  bay 

And  wire-grass  grow,  wherein  no  insect  cries, 

Only  a  bird,  the  swallow  of  the  sea, 

That  homes  in  sand.     I  hear  it  far  away 

Crying — or  is  it  some  lost  soul  that  flies, 

Above  the  land,  ailing  unceasingly  ? 


24 


On    Old    Cape   Ann 
VII. 

BY    THE    SUMMER    SEA 

Sunlight  and  shrill  cicada  and  the  low, 

Slow,  sleepy  kissing  of  the  sea  and  shore, 

And  rumor  of  the  wind.     The  morning  wore 

A  sullen  face  of  fog  that  lifted  slow, 

Letting  her  eyes  gleam  through  of  grayest  glow  ; 

Wearing  a  look  like  that  which  once  she  wore 

When,  Gloucesterward  from  Dogtown  there,  they 

bore 

Some  old  witch  wife  with  many  a  gibe  and  blow. 
But  now  the  day  has  put  off  every  care, 
And  sits  at  peace  beside  the  smiling  sea, 
Dreaming  bright  dreams  with  lazy-lidded  eyes : 
One  is  a  castle,  precipiced  in  air, 
And  one  a  golden  galleon — can  it  be 
'Tis  but  the  cloudworld  of  the  sunset  skies  ? 


25 


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JAN    3  1952 


Form  L9 — 15m-10,'48(B1039)444 


UNIVERSITY  of  CALIFORNIA 

AT 
LOS  ANGELES 


F67   Cawein- 

C31o  Ode  read  August 
15,  19 "7. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    001  337411     1 


F67 
C31o 


r 


\ 


